


Personal Problems

by Warp5Complex_Archivist



Category: Star Trek: Enterprise
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-03-04
Updated: 2006-03-03
Packaged: 2018-08-15 22:47:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 8,811
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8075866
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Warp5Complex_Archivist/pseuds/Warp5Complex_Archivist
Summary: Something's wrong with Captain Archer. Can Trip figure out how to help his friend? Includes Archer/f. (04/08/2004)





	1. First Signs

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Kylie Lee, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Warp 5 Complex](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Warp_5_Complex), the software of which ceased to be maintained and created a security hazard. To make future maintenance and archive growth easier, I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in August 2016. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but I may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Warp 5 Complex collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/Warp5Complex).

There was something wrong with Captain Archer. Trip was very sure of this. He didn't have any clue what the problem might be, but something was wrong. They had been friends for too long for Trip to miss the subtle differences in the way Archer had been acting.

There had been a briefing at 0800 hours, with T'Pol giving a report on a nearby uninhabited solar system with her usual emotionless attitude. That wasn't unusual. Things started getting a little strange when Archer decided not to visit the system.

"But Cap'n," Trip had protested, "the second planet's kinda Earth-like. We could walk around, take a little shore leave. I bet Porthos'd like a walk on a nice, calm planet like home."

"We're not out here to find planets like home. We're out here to explore new planets."

That was a little unusual, but Trip decided not to pursue the issue. After all, there wasn't anything special about the planet. Just a nice, calm planet where there weren't any aliens who might or might not be telling the truth. After the last several alien encounters, the idea held definite appeal to Trip. Maybe he was imagining that the Captain was acting strange.

So he had gone back to Engineering focusing on fine-tuning the warp core. For once, there was a lack of catastrophes that needed his immediate attention, so Trip used the time to tweak a few parts here and there. Amazin' what a millimeter left or right can do, he pondered. When there was nothing left to tweak and an hour left before his shift ended, he sat down to write a thoroughly boring report on how the ship was running, which was, for once, fine. He much preferred actually getting in and doing the dirty work to the paperwork. Nevertheless, the report had to be done by tomorrow.

Trip brought it up and personally delivered it to Archer. "So basically, the ship's running beautifully," he remarked after skimming it.

"Yep, Cap'n, she's doin' just fine."

Archer tossed the padd onto his desk. "Trip, have you ever wondered about the big picture?"

The remark took his Chief Engineer by surprise. "You mean the Temporal Cold War?" Trip hadn't thought about it much at all. The way he saw it, the most he could do was keep Enterprise running well and lend a hand to the aliens that always seemed to need help. All the time traveling stuff didn't really concern him. Besides, it was awfully confusing. He'd had to learn about it at the Academy. If you travel back in time and prevent your mother from marrying your father, then you no longer exist. But how did you exist to prevent them from marrying in the fist place? Trip had no idea, and he was content to leave that to others and deal with solid, tangible problems like warp core reactions.

"That's not what I mean. I mean with us."

How the heck was he supposed to answer that? "Us?"

"Our crew, what we do out here. The big picture, Trip, not just the individual incidents. What we're doing out here is setting the stage for millions more to come."

"Guess we ought ta leave 'em something to be proud of." Where was this conversation going? Were the burdens of command too much for his old friend to handle? Somehow, Trip sensed there was more than just command to this. But he had no idea what Jonathan needed from him. The only thing he knew was that Jon needed his old friend, not just his Chief Engineer.

"I think we will, Trip. I certainly hope we will."

Having nothing else to offer his captain and friend at the moment, Trip excused himself and went to get a bite to eat in the mess hall.

"Anyone sitting here?"

"No sir."

"Travis, we're off duty. Drop the 'sir.' It makes me feel like an English knight or somethin.'" Malcolm might enjoy that, he thought to himself.

"So how's Engineering?"

"Our ship is runnin' like a charm."

"We better enjoy it while it lasts." Travis had learned while growing up that perfection—in Engineering, schedules, food, whatever—was always short-lived. For instance, today had been practically perfect flying conditions. No ion storms or asteroid fields in sight. That meant that tomorrow, or the next day, some huge ion storm would brew up right in front of them. It was the way space travel was, and it made it exciting.

"Yeah." Trip chewed his salad thoughtfully. "Have you noticed anything different with the Cap'n?"

"Different? How?"

"I dunno exactly. He just doesn't seem like himself." He stabbed a chunk of tomato, then added, "Like something's bothering him, but it's not about the ship or aliens or anything."

"I haven't noticed anything. But I'm probably not the best person to ask, sir-Commander-umm, all I can really say is, of all the people on board, you've known him the longest."

"So you're not surprised I'd be the first to notice if somethin's botherin' him."

"Right."

"Well, thanks, Travis. And if you notice anything..."

"You'll be the first to know."

Walking back to his quarters, Trip mulled over what he knew. It wasn't much. His captain and friend was acting a little strange, and he was the only one who noticed it, which wasn't surprising. Maybe he'd just clear his head a little, go to bed early, and think about it more in the morning. He grabbed an old book, an anthology of comic strips. It was just what he needed to relax.


	2. Porthos

Captain Jonathan Archer was in his ready room, trying his hardest not to think, when he was interrupted by the comm.

"Engineering to Cap'n Archer."

He sighed and hit the panel on the wall. "Archer here."

Trip paused for one uncomfortable moment. "Well, Cap'n, Porthos is runnin' around down here, he musta got away from you somehow. Anyhow, I thought you might be lookin' for him. And he's distracting an ensign or two down here."

"Thanks, Trip. I'm on my way." Actually, he hadn't even noticed that his pet was gone. Porthos must have slipped out when Malcolm delivered his report on the status of the armory. Which was, according to Malcolm, not stocked well enough. That's what he got for bringing his dog with him on duty.

Walking down to fetch his dog, Archer couldn't help but think, despite his best efforts not to. He had to think about the ship when he put on a smile for passing crewmembers. He had to think about the ship when the vibrations of the warp core got closer, and when he entered the heart of the ship itself, Engineering.

Trip was now convinced that something was bothering his old friend. It wasn't like Jonathan to lose his dog, and Porthos was awfully well trained. A simple command would have kept him back, which meant that the Captain was so out of it he hadn't noticed his dog leaving. Seeing his master enter, Porthos trotted over by the Captain's side.

"I'm sorry about Porthos, Trip. I don't know how he got away."

"That's OK. But if he's ever down here durin' a real emergency, we're in trouble. More crewmen around him than at their stations." The engineer patted Porthos affectionately. "You sure do attract a crowd." He hoped that making light of the situation would disguise his genuine concern.

"Well, we better be getting back to my ready room. I've got to come up with a way to convince Malcolm that our armory doesn't need to be doubled."

That was something he could truly laugh about. "Good luck. There are days when I'm perfectly satisfied with the engines. No diplomats, no life-or- death decisions, and no armory officers who want to turn Enterprise into a warship. Malcolm's a good guy, but sometimes he takes his job a little too seriously."

"Well, if you can convince him we have enough weapons..."

"I'll try, sir. But no promises."

"Thanks, Trip."

He walked off with Porthos at his heels. "You created quite the stir in Engineering. If you interfere with the running of my ship, we might just have to cut back on the cheese," he scolded playfully.

He was silent on the way back to the ready room. He had command of a beautiful ship. She gleamed with possibilities and promises. The best Starfleet had, and the best crew a captain could hope for. He was living his father's dream, the dream he had adopted as his own. He had what he'd always wanted. Didn't he?

Trip watched the retreating form of his captain with great concern. What on Earth- no, what in the galaxy- was the matter? There was nothing that was going wrong, for once, nothing Trip could think of that Archer might be blaming himself for, no aliens with hostages, nothing bad at all. So why is the Cap'n actin' like his best friend just died?

He tried to think of any strange behavior like this in the past week. It had, as far as Trip could tell, all started yesterday. And yesterday had been completely uneventful. Had Starfleet sent some message that Archer was keeping to himself? Or worse yet, the Vulcan High Command? Somehow, Trip thought that those were unlikely possibilities.

No, something else was bothering Jon. He had no idea what it was, but it was probably something personal. Jon had never been one to share the details of his private life, even with his closest friends. Questioning him would just raise defensive barriers. There was no reason that Dr. Phlox should force him to take medical leave. That left Trip to try and help his friend.

Maybe after his shift he'd do a little snooping. Well, not snooping exactly. He was just going to see what messages the ship had received in the past forty-eight hours. Maybe someone on Earth had died, and Jon was mourning. That could explain his behavior.

Brushing a stray dog hair from his nose, Trip went back to work. There was nothing he could do at the moment to help his friend. That would have to wait until his shift was over, because letting the ship fall apart wouldn't help anyone.


	3. Getting Nowhere

Looking through all the transmissions the ship had received in the last two days, Trip was glad that he didn't have Hoshi's job. He thought that he should tell her how much more he appreciated her work, until he realized that she might wonder how he found out so much. So that was out. But she sure did have a lot to deal with.

It had taken him almost an hour to get access to all the files through the back door entrance. The engineers who built the ship had booby-trapped it well, and it took careful navigation to get through to the files. Fortunately, Trip had been good buddies with one of the engineers who worked on the Enterprise communication system, so he knew a trick or two. Of course, it would've been easier to put in his authorization, and then he'd see all but the "Captain's eyes only" transmissions. But then it was a simple matter for anybody to see that he'd been looking around, and he didn't need that.

He was almost done sorting through the files, and he hadn't found anything that could explain Captain Archer's behavior. There were personal letters to at least a third of the crew, alien transmissions, a Starfleet Medical update for Dr. Phlox, a copy of the Vulcan Consulate's last meeting over that incident with the Andorians and the "unfortunate medical necessity of keeping Sub-Commander T'Pol on board the Enterprise for the time being," (he didn't feel bad about reading that one) and a meeting with some Starfleet brass. He had watched this one carefully, despite the fact that he felt like a spy. It was a rehash of the Vulcan Consulate meeting and the implications of keeping T'Pol on with them, and nothing at all that explained the Captain's weird behavior.

"And finally we have...the text of a new cookbook for Chef. Well, that was helpful," Trip muttered under his breath as he backed out of the files.

Malcolm was sitting alone in the mess hall, trying to figure out how to improve their weapons since Captain Archer refused to let him install any more. Trip saw him alone with his padds and decided this was as good a time as any to ask Malcolm if he had noticed anything.

"Anyone sittin' here?"

"Not at the moment," Malcolm replied, barely glancing up from his reading. He got two more lines read before he felt like something more was expected of him. He lowered the padd. "Anything I can help you with, Commander?"

The Chief Engineer sighed. "That obvious, huh? Well, it's a kinda sensitive issue..."

Malcolm suppressed a sigh of his own. These North Americans had an annoying habit of letting their sentences trail off. "I won't tell anyone unless the ship is in imminent danger," he said.

"Have you noticed anythin' unusual about the way Cap'n Archer's been actin'?"

"His insistence on keeping this ship under prepared for serious battles is certainly not unusual."

"Let's not go there right now," groaned Trip. Maybe he'd picked the wrong person to ask about this. "Actually, now that you mention it, he did seem a bit distracted when I was talking with him."

"Distracted? By what?"

"I don't know. For a moment I felt like his mind was somewhere else. Just for a moment. It didn't seem like a problem. We all get distracted sometimes."

"I think it's more than just gettin' a little distracted. Was that all?"

"Yes."

Trip thought about what he should do next. He really didn't have enough medical evidence to go to Dr. Phlox. Hell, he didn't even have a theory. All he had to go on was a gut feeling that something was wrong with his friend. If he went to talk to Jon about it, he'd get nowhere at all. Jon would just try harder to hide whatever it was from the crew. The only option that seemed feasible was waiting to do nothing, and he didn't like that option at all. Waiting while something ate his best friend away inside was not something he intended to do. But what could he do?

"Computer, lights, twenty-five percent." He couldn't sleep while he thought about this. He reached for his comic book.

Archer couldn't sleep. He looked up at the ceiling, watched Porthos, who had been asleep for hours, jealously, counted sheep, watched the stars go by, but nothing he did helped him to sleep. This was the third night in a row. He wanted to ask Dr. Phlox for a sedative, but then he'd have to explain why he couldn't sleep. First of all, he wasn't entirely sure himself, and second, he didn't want his problems to be public knowledge. He didn't want anyone to know.

After all, what did he have to complain about? There were a thousand other people who would love to be in his place, on this beautiful ship with this wonderful crew, out exploring space and going where no man had gone before. There were other qualified people for the job, but he had it.

So why did he feel empty inside?


	4. The Ice Queen

The door chime rang in T'Pol's room. The crew rarely visited her, so she expected to see Captain Archer when she answered the door. Only her years of discipline hid her surprise when it was Commander Tucker who stood at her door.

"I'm not interruptin' anything, am I?" he asked.

Actually, she was reading a paper written on an old human theory, suggesting the low mathematical probability of life on other planets. She was aware, however, that the correct human response to Commander Tucker's question was "no."

He stood there in silence for a moment, then said, "It's a sensitive topic. Maybe we could just step inside?" T'Pol had no desire to do so, but she stepped back, allowing him to enter her quarters.

Trip had to remind himself of why he was here again. T'Pol had him backed up against the door to her quarters, and it was pretty obvious that she didn't want him in there any more than he wanted to be there.

"Hoshi suggested I talk to you," he offered as his reason for intruding into her quarters. He hadn't been particularly receptive to the idea, but Hoshi had insisted. She'd said that her time had been consumed by some new language-Trip forgot what the name of it was- and all she could say was that "he doesn't fill the bridge up with his presence any more." Not exactly the evidence Trip was looking for.

"I think somethin's botherin' Cap'n Archer."

"Dr. Phlox has not notified me of any physical ailments."

Trip sighed and resisted the urge to at least lean against the door. The Ice Queen probably wouldn't like that. "I didn't say he did. I don't know exactly what's botherin' him."

T'Pol considered this for a moment, her chiseled Vulcan features deep in thought. "You are suggesting an emotional illness. Ensign Sato was mistaken in sending you to me. I would not recognize a human emotional illness..."

He cut her off. "She said that you might have noticed any behavioral changes. She said since Vulcans are real observant..." he let his sentence trail off and shrugged. "I'm tryin' to help a friend, that's all."

"A considerate human trait, even if it does invade privacy." Was that a compliment? It almost sounded like one, mused Trip.

"Captain Archer has been spending less time on the bridge than he usually does. It takes him 2.4 second longer to answer over the comm than when we first began this mission."

Trip really didn't know how to answer that. She timed him? "Hoshi said that he doesn't fill up the bridge with his presence anymore."

"Ensign Sato's assessment is crude, but essentially correct. Captain Archer makes less "jokes" and says less in general."

"So you've noticed this?"

"I did not associate these behavioral changes with any emotional disturbances."

He sighed. "They're associated alright, T'Pol. The problem is, if I try talkin' to him about it, he'll clam up and pretend everythin's great."

"Clam up?"

"He'll pull himself in and show even less of his emotions, and not say a word about it."

"The Captain acted in a similar manner when I approached him about these behaviors this afternoon."


	5. Alone

Jonathan Archer pressed the hypospray to his neck, and it gave a relaxing hiss. Dr. Phlox had given it to him at his request. It was the anniversary of his father's death, and he always had trouble sleeping, he'd explained. He didn't add that with how he'd slept lately, plus the anniversary, he would be lucky to get any sleep at all. But with this, he might get his first good night's sleep in over a week.

Am I out here for the right reasons? He looked over at Porthos, sleeping soundly. You're luckier than you realize. It struck him that other people would say the same thing to him. But they didn't have to deal with the awful feelings, or sometimes the lack of feelings, that he did. He wished he could act like a Vulcan, a wish he thought he'd never even think of.

Looking at the stars streaking by, he thought of the initial excitement he had when they started the mission. Where had it gone? That exuberance had lasted through dangerous missions, but now it was gone for no apparent reason. What's happening to me? This wasn't something he could order around, something that could be fired at. This, whatever it was, had to be fought by him, inside himself. Alone.

T'Pol had noticed his behavior. He hoped that the rest of the crew didn't. Well, he knew that Trip had noticed, and he'd bet a lot that Trip was worrying about him, noting his absence just now from the checkers tournament, trying to figure out how to help his old friend. Trip meant well, and if it were anything else, Jon would tell him. But this...this enemy he couldn't identify, he had to conquer alone.

He wished his father was still alive. Then he might have answers to some of the questions that plagued him. Am I out here for the right reasons? Would he be proud of me? Would he accept my almost-friendship with a Vulcan, after they prevented his dream for so long?

But he was the only one who could answer them, and the others. If he reached the breaking point, he'd talk with Trip. Until then, he'd deal with this the only way he could. Alone.


	6. The Spider Plan

Trip had come up with a way to figure out what was bothering Jon. He'd hear the words from the horse's mouth, as the saying went, and then, somehow, help his friend. There was only one problem, and it was a big one. The morality of his method was questionable.

What he'd come up with was to read the Captain's personal logs.

He was tossing and turning in his bed, trying to decide what to do. "It idn't exactly right," Trip mumbled to himself, "but I can't just sit by and watch my best friend wither up."

He watched the stars out the window as if they held the answer to his problem. "I wouldn't want anyone readin' my personal logs. But Jon's sufferin' a whole lot more than he's lettin' on."

Trip turned over again, and decided he couldn't do it. How could he expect Jon to trust him if he couldn't keep his nose out of his friend's personal logs? No, there had to be a better way. A moral way, one that he could do with a clear conscience.

There was the issue of legality, but this concerned him less, all things considered. If he had to, he'd be demoted to crewman if it was because he helped Jon. And there was a way. Trip's figuring was that his friend was nearly at the breaking point. He'd be willing to talk soon.

There was a box in his quarters that Trip kept, with engineering parts and tools and gadgets. They weren't all exactly Starfleet issue, but he thought that they could be useful, so he'd brought them along when he came aboard the ship. And now he thought of a spider-like gizmo that could be just what he needed.

It took two hours, but the Spider was a beauty. A power cell was connected to eight wires, and a small programming device controlled the unit. Small, sturdy, and programmed to give him the help he needed. Of course, using the Spider as he planned had not become legal in the last two hours. Trip was still convinced that it was worth the risk, and now he had the instrument that he needed. Now that he had a plan, he should get a few hours of sleep so he'd be awake to enact it.

After the Alpha shift, Jonathan Archer went straight to his quarters. He didn't even feel like eating. One question repeated itself through his mind again and again: Am I here for the right reasons? He paced his quarters, causing Porthos to send strange looks his way. Am I here for the right reasons? His fingers went up to the pips on his uniform. They were smooth, round, and cool. Am I here for the right reasons?

Outside, Trip rang the door chime, and as he did, stuck the Spider securely on. It took an eternity for the door to open.

"We need to talk."

"Is everything going alright in Engineering, Commander?"

"I'm not here 'cause you're my Cap'n. I'm here 'cause you're my friend."

Despite himself, Jon allowed Trip to walk in. The door closed soundly behind them.


	7. Supernova

Trip really didn't know how to start the conversation. He stood there, feeling the silence drag on like hours though it lasted mere seconds. Looking around the room, he saw Porthos lying down calmly, like his master's world wasn't turning upside-down. For a moment Trip envied the dog.

It was Jon who first broke the silence. "I can't hide it from you," he stated simply. The words were simple, but the weight they carried was significant. He was opening a crack in his defenses. The question was, could Trip open him up more?

"What's wrong?"

"I don't know, exactly." Then he turned to look out the window, realizing the weakness he'd just admitted. The stars outside were endless, full of mysteries and adventures. Why didn't that bring the same emotions to him as it used to?

"This is eatin' at you. I see it." The extent worried Trip because he didn't know it. Was his best friend suicidal? The thought sent shivers down his spine. He didn't think so, he hoped not, but there was only one real way to find out. That, however, would have to wait for the moment. The conversation hadn't reached that level yet.

"Trip, why do the stars look so different? We can classify them, make them fit into categories, but none of them look the same."

Not understanding the point Jon was trying to make, Trip kept silent and let him continue. An imminent warp core breach might have been easier to handle, but this was something that Trip had to do. As a friend.

"Lives are sort of like that. They are more complicated closer up than from far away."

Suddenly Trip had something to add. "You can't tell from far away if it's about t' go nova."

Now Jon knew that the engineer understood, and he hoped that the analogy wouldn't be taken too far. He needed to talk, but he couldn't. But that part of him that wanted to talk refused to be suppressed. "Or supernova," the part added in his voice.

Trip sat down in a chair without waiting for invitation. "Talk t' me, Jon."

By now back in control, his reply was vague and evasive. "There are no words." The real problem, of course, was that there were too many words. They made too many thoughts, all pushing for attention in his head. The words made questions that he couldn't answer, questions that kept him from sleeping again and again.

"I can get you a dictionary." Half joking, half proving how serious he was, Trip stated this with growing concern. Jon wasn't ready to talk yet, and he seemed to be pulling inward more. His next statement proved it.

"Is that all, Commander?"

"Commander? I already told you I'm here as a friend. I'm here 'cause you need somebody to make you talk. Well, I'm that somebody."

"You'd better watch out for insubordination."

"To hell with insubordination! Right now you need a friend more than a Chief Engineer. I'm not leaving until you talk to me."

"Archer to Security." There was no answer. "Archer to Lieutenant Reed." Still no reply.

"Don't expect 'em to hear you anytime soon."

"Then I'll throw you in the brig myself."

"We're not goin' anywhere. I locked us in and disabled the comm system." The Spider had apparently taken control, and now came the hard part. Jon wasn't going to open up easily.

"I could demote you to crewman for this, you know." But that annoying part of him was touched by what Trip was willing to risk and wanted to tell him. That part wouldn't leave him alone, a mental fly buzzing inside his head.

"Here. I'll do it for you." Trip took off all his pips and dropped them on to the floor.

"You still can't make me talk."

"I'm willin' to wait."


	8. Waiting

Trip didn't even bother to keep track of the time that passed. He was going to sit there until Jon told him what was wrong, so time didn't really matter. Eventually, everyone else would catch on to the Spider and try to disable it, but that would take a good twelve hours unless anyone had experience with the thing, and Trip didn't believe anyone did. Besides, barring any emergencies, they wouldn't even notice until Jon was late for his shift. Hopefully he would have talked by then.

While Trip sat in the chair and waited, Archer couldn't sit still. He paced the room, looked out the window, patted Porthos, and sat on his bed. Though his quarters were the largest on the ship, they didn't seem big enough.

"Sometimes," remarked Trip carefully after a long stretch of silence, "those stars don't go supernova. Once in a while one collapses into a black hole." There was no response, and the silence resumed.

He felt so helpless. It was an awful feeling, watching his best friend suffer and not being able to do anything. Trip hated not being able to do anything, which was one of the reasons he liked engineering better than command. He felt so powerless, and he wanted to look at the problem, take it apart and fix it. Waiting was painful, because he was not in control. He wanted to yell at Jon, and shake him. "Talk to me, dammit, before you end up killing yourself!" he wanted to scream. But the only thing that would be remotely helpful was sitting and waiting for Jon to talk.

Archer was thinking that Trip, while meaning well, just didn't understand. He didn't understand that the emotions and the questions and the thoughts were in control. He didn't understand how small the human will can become. The mental and emotional hell that had become Archer's everyday life were foreign to Trip. There was no way that anyone, even Trip, could understand. Archer wouldn't wish the understanding on anyone.

The comment about black holes was something that Archer had known all along. He knew that he was collapsing into himself, knew that he couldn't fight forever. But he also knew another truth, and that was one of the reasons he held back and didn't confide in his best friend: black holes draw other, nearby objects into their abyss. He didn't want his downfall to be anyone else's as well.

The helplessness was nearly overwhelming, and it was taking an emotional toll on Trip. He had known that this wouldn't be easy, but he hadn't expected it to be this hard. There was nothing he could do now. The ball, as the saying went, was in Jon's court. No other options remained now. A contest of wills had formed, and the question now was who would break first.


	9. Listen

Time had lost all meaning, and the two men sat in the silence hardly aware of its passing. It was the silence that was most disturbing. They had always had something to talk about, especially Trip, who was naturally open and talkative. Now he waited for Archer to talk.

He didn't feel like a captain, captive in his own quarters, waiting for himself or his best friend to back down. He felt weak, small, and helpless. The tension and emotion was overwhelming. Thoughts and questions raced through his head, until he would've put a phase pistol to his head to make it stop.

That was the thought that broke through the barriers. He had just considered suicide, even if it was only for a moment. Every cell in his body was now tense, alert, and afraid. There was no telling what would happen next. But the part of him that wanted help had won, and now he just had to think of the words.

"'And so beneath the weight lay I, and suffered death but could not die.'" He was half surprised to hear himself say the words. He couldn't even remember their author.

Trip looked at Jon, relief spreading through him, and saw that his friend had reached his mental and emotional limits. His face was more than tired, it looked a decade older and worn as if he had seen a holocaust. His eyes had lost the adventuresome sparkle that made him such a good captain. He didn't even pat Porthos, who was sitting at his feet.

What could he say now? Jon was finally willing to talk, and Trip had no words to encourage him. He finally decided on a simple, concerned "Why?"

"I wish I knew. All I know is that..." he paused for a moment, considering carefully the importance of his next words, then continued, "...I can't go on like this anymore, Trip."

"You don't have to." Trip furthered his commitment to help Jon through this. There was no turning back now, because he cared too much.

"You don't understand."

"Make me."

Archer resumed his pacing, trying to quell his inner turmoil and find the words to describe it at the same time. "Trip, I just thought about killing myself." There. It was out now.

Trip reacted as if he had been physically hit, but he tried not to show it. "What's makin' life so awful all the sudden?"

"It's not sudden, exactly. It started after we got back from that detention camp, and it's been getting worse."

Probing was, at this point, a risk Trip would just have to take. "What's 'it?'"

"The sleepless nights, the endless doubting thoughts, the questions, the feeling of being suffocated from the inside." Archer paced two steps for every item on his list.

Trip couldn't imagine what it felt like to be suffocated from the inside, but he decided not to focus on that issue. Jon was hurting, and he had a chance to ease the pain.

"What kinda questions?" he asked. He was no psychologist, but he'd gotten an A- in Psych 101, and he was trying to remember anything useful. All he could think of at the moment was to keep Jon talking, and to try to get him to reveal the problem.

"All different kinds." He stopped there, but it was clear that Trip wasn't satisfied. "I wonder what my father would think of me having a Vulcan First Officer. I wonder what I would do if I had to choose who on my crew to save. I wonder what would happen to Porthos if I died. I wonder what I would do if we had to self-destruct. I wonder if I made the right command decisions." He decided that was enough for now.

"How can I help?"

"Listen."


	10. To Want To Die

Jon was looking out the window again, and Trip didn't like that. He liked to see his friend's face and read the emotion in his eyes. That was probably why Jon watched the stars.

"Do you know what it feels like to want to die?" asked Jon suddenly, after silence had stretched for several minutes.

Trip was horrified at the question, and his own heart ached for Jon, for his best friend's pain. He knew that Jon knew what it felt like, and the thought was so repulsive, so emotionally charged, that Trip could hardly answer the question. "No," he said after a pause.

Jon wanted to tell Trip that he hoped he never would know what it felt like; that it was the worst feeling in the world; that you hated yourself for even thinking about suicide, which made you more suicidal. He wanted to tell him how worthless you felt and how you feel like your friends only pity you. But even with his best friend, he couldn't say the words.

"Damn, how'd it ever get this far, Jon?"

"I don't know why..."

Trip interrupted. "I mean why the hell didn't you talk to me before? Or talk to someone? Why?"

The silence that followed was tense, and the old clich that you could cut the air with a knife came into Trip's mind. Then a wild thought occurred to him. He walked over to where he knew, ever since that incident with Silik, Jon kept a phase pistol.

"What are you doing with that?" asked Jon, snapping back to reality for a moment, looking as though he much preferred staring at the stars.

Trip said nothing, but he snapped the weapon up to kill with a loud click.

"Put that down, Commander, that's an order!" Trip's face was hardened, and he didn't move. "What do you want? I'll do what you want, I'll cooperate. Just put the gun down, and we can talk."

Click. Trip replaced the gun, returning it to its hiding place. Then he turned to look at his very bewildered captain and friend.

"You don't really want t' die."

Tears started coming, first down Jon's face, then on Trip's.

"I don't know what I want anymore, Trip. I just don't know."

"But you don't want t' die." He was almost pleading now, and all the barriers were crumbling.

"No," said Jon softly. "Not anymore."


	11. To Save The Mission

Jon looked at his best friend and saw the concern written all over his face. Trip's blue eyes were clouded with worry. He was the only person Jon could tell.

"Trip, it's no one thing that's bothering me." The words were out now; there was no taking them back. He couldn't command this ship, he needed to be in a psychiatric ward! The thought hurt. Enterprise was the best thing in his life. Some days, he was sure it was the only good thing in his life. Now, looking at Trip, he realized that his best friend was another good thing. Porthos made three. The list of bad things was still longer.

"Like what?" The engineer was nothing if not stubborn.

"I shouldn't be here."

"You know that's not true. Starfleet never woulda sent you if they didn't believe you'd be a good captain."

"Do I look like a good captain, Trip?"

"You look like a good captain whose havin' a bad week."

"Nice try, Trip, but you're not a very convincing liar."

"Why don'tcha think you should be here?"

"Besides the fact that I almost killed myself?"

"Before that."

"They picked me because of my father. Not me."

"You really think that Starfleet would entrust the first ship we've got to a man because of what his father did?" Jon's perceptions were really twisted now.

"Why not?" Then he changed the subject. "I just don't know anymore, Trip. I just don't know."

"No one expects ya to do this job alone."

"They don't expect me to think about throwing myself out an airlock, either."

"I thought..." Trip was suddenly cut off by an outburst from Jon.

"What you thought doesn't matter anymore! I thought I could handle the stress, but I can't. I thought a lot of things that turned out to be wrong. I sure as hell didn't think I'd be here having this conversation with you! But here I am."

Trip picked up on one word his friend had just said. "Stress?"

"Do you realize what we could do out here, Trip? We could start a galactic war while we were asleep. We could doom a civilization by visiting their planet. The ship could get blown to bits light-years from home."

"Or we could prevent a galactic war, save a civilization, and come home as heroes."

"You don't understand."

"Sorry. I'm tryin'."

Silence suddenly fell over the room. The stars were still slipping away like Jonathan Archer's dreams. "Trip, will you lift the communications block?"

"So you can send your resignation in t' Starfleet?"

Jon didn't respond, and Trip knew him well enough to take that as a yes. He stood there, waiting to resign from his dream job, a shell of a man.

"You'll regret it till the day you die."

"I don't have any other choice."

Trip sighed, barely keeping the tears in check. He walked over to the wall, opened a panel, and in a minute, the computer beeped.

"There ya go. Press that button right there an' you can run away from your problems."

Jon turned to look at him. "Is that what you think I'm doing? Running away?"

"It sure as hell looks like that's what you're doing!"

"No. I'm saving this mission." The words came out slowly, reluctantly.


	12. Why?

_Ten Years Later_

"I've heard it said that the best friends you can have are the ones who will stop you from hurting yourself at any cost. But I think that the best friends you can have are the ones who let you, and then pick up the pieces."

Julia Archer looked at her husband. "What makes you say that, Jon?"

"I just heard from Trip. He's on shore leave, and he's coming to visit."

"So I finally get to meet the man who saved your life. How can I ever thank him?"

"Trip isn't much into praise. But if you can make up a pecan pie, he'd consider that thanks enough." Julia had heard the story before. Trip had stopped Jon from committing suicide. Then he'd allowed him, even though he had blocked all communications, to resign from Starfleet. He was the friend that had seen Jon through his depression and showed him reasons to live. She had never met the man, but she owed her husband, daughter, and wonderful life to him. A pecan pie was the least she could do. And she wanted to ask him a question. If Trip knew that Starfleet was Jon's life, why did he let him resign without more of a fight?

* * *

_Back On Enterprise_

"I can't believe that he's actually resigning!" Travis looked over at Hoshi and tossed his fork on his plate. She looked up in response to the clanging noise.

"You're not the first person to say that. The whole ship is in shock."

"I thought that this was his dream, and now he's just leaving after a year."

"Don't take it personally, Travis. Captain Archer said that he..."

Hoshi never got a chance to finish. "I know, I know. He needs to work through some things that he can't deal with on the ship, and that it's been an honor to serve as our captain. I still don't get it!"

"Commander Tucker seems to be taking this the hardest."

"It's his best friend, so I guess he can take it more personally."

"I don't think that's it. I think that Trip is somehow part of this. That he knows more than anybody else on Enterprise."

"So you're saying that..."

It was Hoshi's turn to interrupt. "That Commander Tucker knows Captain Archer needs to resign, but he doesn't want him to. That he's fighting with himself for whatever role he played in the captain's decision."

"Are there words for this in some other language?"

That almost made her laugh. "No."

Travis sighed. "I guess we should be going to help plan the goodbye party." As they left, both ensigns were thinking of how Jonathan Archer had changed their lives. Enterprise wouldn't be the same without him, they knew. Who would be captain? Nobody could replace Captain Archer anyway. Why did he have to leave?


	13. Goodbye Is The Hardest Word

It was a sad goodbye when Jonathan Archer left the starship Enterprise. The ship had reversed course, in order to bring the captain home personally. The distraught crew didn't seem to mind the delay; nobody really felt like exploring new worlds anyway. The goodbye party had been a nightmare for Jon. Everyone was trying to act cheerful, when he knew that he had hurt them all. Even T'Pol had said that she had "gained valuable insights while serving under his command." Many of the crewmembers made impromptu speeches, saying that he had made a difference and he would be missed, but they wished him the best of luck.

It was Hoshi's speech that hurt the most, though. "A year ago, I didn't want to go into space and explore," she had begun. "I liked the safety of Earth and I was afraid of the dangers of space. There were days at the beginning of our mission when I wanted to leave, because I was afraid and I didn't think I was up to the challenge of this job. Captain Archer showed me how wrong I was. He believed in me, and that allowed me to believe in myself. From him, I learned that we are capable of far more than we think." The linguist turned to him and ended quietly. "Thank you."

Her words were not meant to hurt, he knew that. They did all the same. He had told her that she could handle space and her job on Enterprise, and now he himself was leaving because he couldn't handle his. The irony of it was painful. The previous week, Jonathan Archer had been ready to kill himself. Now it felt like the pain of betraying his crew would do the job for him.

For the final goodbye, only Trip and T'Pol were in the shuttlebay with him. Trip was going to take him down to Earth in Shuttlepod Two. As to why T'Pol was there, Jon wasn't quite sure. She would take temporary command of Enterprise, because it would be at least a week before Starfleet Command could get another captain ready. Another irony, he mused. A Vulcan was going to command Earth's first warp five starship for at least a week.

The door to the shuttlepod opened, and Trip got in. That left T'Pol standing at attention facing him. He looked into her cold Vulcan face and saw that her eyes betrayed her, ever so slightly. Perhaps only he might have noticed it, but there was something in the way her eyes looked straight at him that wasn't hidden behind a Vulcan mask. She would miss him, in a Vulcan way. She didn't have to say it, and never would say it, but he knew it. And she knew he knew it. She held up her hand and formed the traditional Vulcan goodbye. "Live Long and Prosper, Captain."

Tears welled up in his eyes. "Goodbye, T'Pol. And thank you." Then he got in to the shuttlepod, and the door closed behind him, severing him forever from Enterprise.

* * *

_Ten Years Later_

"So when will he be here?" Jon had hardly heard his wife.

"What?" Julia let a small sigh escape her lips. Ever since Jon had found out Trip was coming, he'd been lost in memories. Perhaps he hadn't quite forgiven himself, but she thought it was more likely that Jon had put that life behind him, and Trip's visit brought it all back.

"When will Trip be here?"

"Tomorrow; he should get here just in time for dinner." Then he was gone again, back to a world that he had left behind, back to a world that, even after five years of marriage, she knew very little about.

"God," said Julia Archer, alone by her daughter's crib, watching her nap, "please don't let this hurt Jon, not again." Praying was the only thing she could do. It was a miracle, she reflected, that Jon had survived. He knew it too, and that was why, even after a lifetime of not believing, he had come to follow Christianity. It had saved him, and would always save him. Julia held the same beliefs dear to her heart, but that never stopped her from worrying. She worried about her husband now.

* * *

_Earth, Ten Years Earlier_

The shuttlepod had landed. The only thing left to do now was get out and watch Trip fly back to Enterprise alone. This was the right thing to do, the only thing that he could do, but it felt like he was being used by a Klingon for bat'leth practice. "Thank you, Trip. I don't know what I would've done without you."

Trip looked at Jon. He wasn't the same man that had started the mission, but he was still Trip's best friend, and that was something that wouldn't change with titles and missions. "I'm gonna miss you. And you're leavin' me alone with T'Pol!" That was enough to make both men smile for a moment.

"I'm sorry," Jon said.

"It's OK. You just get some help, or else I'll come back and then you'll really be sorry." Neither man liked the emotionally tense situation.

Finally, Jon got up to exit. The last thing he said was, "Keep making history, Trip. But try to stay out of medical history." The memory of Trip's short pregnancy hung in the air for a moment.

"It won't be the same." As he watched Shuttlepod Two return to Enterprise, Jonathan Archer felt very small. Admirals and counselors were waiting for him, and he had a lot to work through. But as the shuttlepod disappeared, only one thought went through his mind. I'm sorry.


	14. After All

Trip Tucker was enjoying his second piece of pecan pie when little Charlene Archer started crying. Julia had gotten up to check on her, but Jon had gone instead, saying that it was his turn. Now on the Archers' porch, Trip looked up at the moon and waited for the question he knew was coming.

"Why did you let him leave?" Julia looked over at the engineer, finally getting to ask the question she had pondered for years. She had met him briefly, once before. He was Jon's best man at their wedding, but he got to Earth just in time for the ceremony and had to leave right after the reception. Jon had pulled several strings just to get that, she knew. He wouldn't get married unless Trip was his best man.

Trip had expected this question, and yet there was no way he could explain it to Julia. He took a small bit of the pie and slowly chewed it. Julia looked at him intently, and from the short time he had known her Trip knew there would be no backing out of the question.

"I coulda kept him on the ship for a while, but not forever." He looked up, hoping that was enough of an answer. It wasn't, so he continued. "It wouldn't've been right, Julia."

"You did what you knew was right," she said, understanding as much as she could without having been on Enterprise with Jon at the end. "Somehow, you just knew."

The subject was one Trip wanted to leave at that. "Yeah." Another bite of pecan pie poised before his mouth, he presented his own question. "So how'd ya meet Jon?"

"I was on vacation in Australia, and I met him down there. I saw him as a tall, distinguished man who had a great burden. It turned out he lived only a few kilometers from me. We were so close to each other, but didn't meet until we were on the other side of the world. Anyway, when we got back, we started dating each other. It was a year before we got serious. After he got back," she tacked on the end.

"Got back from where?"

"Didn't he tell you? He went to the moon."

Trip hadn't known that, but it made sense. To make peace with himself, Jon had to leave Earth. There was so much about his best friend's life he didn't know anymore. That was going to change soon, though.

He made his announcement when Jon returned to the room. "If you can stand it, you're goin' ta be seein' a lot more of me."

"You got the posting." So he still follows Starfleet news. Jon knew about the position for Chief Orbital Engineer.

"I figured it was time to settle down." Then he dropped another bombshell. "Hoshi an' I, well...will ya be my best man?"

A huge smile spread across Jon's face. "Congratulations! Trip, that's wonderful! When is the wedding?"

"Hoshi's still not sure, but she thinks in the fall. She likes the idea of a fall wedding in New England." He turned to Julia. "Catfish or beef?"

"This is a..." she was going to say that this was going to be a day for the Enterprise family, not her, but the groom-to-be cut her off.

"Catfish if you don't pick one."

She laughed. "Not seafood! Beef, please."

While wondering how anyone could dislike seafood, Trip thought to himself, Hoshi will like her. This new stage of his life was looking very promising, indeed.

"Beef it is."

"So how is Hoshi doing?"

"Tryin' to decide between snow white and pearly white for her dress."

Looking at the two men, Julia smiled. Her husband was happy to have his best friend back, and she knew that there would be more evenings with Trip and Hoshi. Jon had told her about Hoshi, and she looked forward to meeting her.

When she announced her engagement, her mother was thrilled that she was finally getting married (she thought that never marrying was the worst fate one could have, and Julia had taken her time finding Price Charming) but cautious. "Marrying a Starfleet legend could be hard," she had warned.

Her mother had finally been wrong.


End file.
